


Bigger don't mean better

by angylinni



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Roadhouse the movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:16:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angylinni/pseuds/angylinni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Double Deuce has blood on the floor every night.  When the best cooler in the business comes to town to clean up the mess, he finds out that trouble comes in all shapes and sizes.  For Peeta Mellark, that's just part of the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bleedtoloveher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedtoloveher/gifts).



> Huge thank you's to all the lovely people that have offered support during the writing of this. C, S, A, M and C I can't thank you enough for all the help you gave. For bleedtoloveher, who wanted an HG/Roadhouse crossover. Gee - I thought you'd be bigger.

Peeta pulled into the parking lot of the Double Deuce and sighed.  From the outside it looked every bit like the shithole he’d expected.  Pulling the keys from his Mercedes, he stuffed them in his pocket as he pushed open the door and stepped out into the dirt and gravel parking lot. 

 

He shut the door and walked slowly across the expanse between where he’d parked and the front door.  A vicious looking group of leather jacketed, bandana wearing asshats jeered and started talking smack, and mocking everything from the way he walked to the loose linen suit jacket he wore.  Ignoring them, he walked up the stairs and pushed open the double doors, ducking to the side as a glass shattered next to his head.  Yep, it was gonna be one of _those_ jobs.

 

He made his way to the bar, narrowly avoiding two fights and a big ugly looking brute with a mean, beady gaze who eyeballed him up until he stopped at the end of the bar.  The band was behind a wire barricade and he smiled as he recognized the lead singer, grooving along despite the fights and the razzing of the crowd.

 

“Hey!”

 

He turned to see a short, bubbly blonde staring up at him with a shit eating grin.  “Hello,” he said softly.

 

“You’re new,” she said, folding her tray up under her arm and moving closer to him.  “I’m Delly Ann.”  She leaned in even closer, a wide grin splitting her lips.  “You’re Peeta!”

 

Peeta smiled and nodded.  “I am.”

 

Delly Ann smirked and the guy standing behind the bar glowered in their direction.  “Delly Ann, get your ass in gear, these drinks don’t serve themselves for fuck’s sake.”

 

The petite blonde turned and flipped the bartender off before giving Peeta another peppy grin.  “Damn, I’m glad you’re here,” she said as she moved around him to the waitress station, slapping her tray down.  The surly bartender began loading drinks onto it, giving Peeta a menacing grimace.

 

Delly Ann leaned forward, snapping her gum in the taciturn asshole’s face.  “Do you know who that is?”

 

“The fuck I care?”

 

Delly Ann rolled her eyes.  “God, you are _such_ an asshole!  That’s _Peeta!_ ”

 

Asshole turned his head and pinned Peeta with a steely glare.  “I thought he’d be bigger.”

 

~*~

“You want to take up space, you drink.”

 

Peeta turned around and found Asshole staring at him, eyes glinting evilly.  He shrugged.  “Coffee, black.”

 

“Ten bucks.”

 

Peeta’s brow lifted.  “For coffee?”

 

“Rent.”

 

Peeta sighed and shrugged, slapping down a twenty on the bar.  Asshole snatched it and walked back over to the register, ringing in the purchase.  His hand moved stealthily and slid the twenty into his pants pocket instead of into the cash drawer.  Peeta lifted his coffee to his lips and took a sip, grimacing at the rank taste.  He had his work cut out for him here.

 

The band took a break and he walked over to the stage, a wide grin on his face. He hadn’t seen Gale and the rest of the band since Dayton.  Holding up his finger to his lips, he shook hands with Thresh and Thom before grabbing a towel and holding it out for Gale.

 

“Thanks man,” Gale said, mopping his face.

 

Peeta chuckled.  “So, you play pretty good for a blind white boy.”

 

Gale’s grin matched Peeta’s, spreading across his face.  “Yeah, and I thought you’d be bigger.”  The taller man reached out, pulling Peeta into a rough, one armed hug.  “Peeta, man it’s good to see you.”

 

“You too, Gale.” Peeta said as he led him off the stage and back to the small room set aside for the band.

 

“Man, this shithole is worse than that place we worked in Dayton.  Blood on the floor every damn night.”

 

“That’s why I’m here.”

 

~*~

 

The rest of the evening passed in a mind dulling haze, more fights and bullshit than he could ever remember seeing in one place.  Panem wasn’t very big, but it seemed like every asshole in a hundred mile radius had focused in on the Double Deuce.  You couldn’t walk two feet without running into one of them.  Power drinkers, felons, and middle aged adolescents, every dick with a grudge and enough bravado to throw a few punches – they’d all ended up here.  When he finally left, buzzed on all the bad coffee he’d consumed, he was restless as hell.  Sliding into his car, he flexed his fingers on the wheel, staring out into the dark night.


	2. Chapter 2

Peeta woke with the dawn, unable anymore to sleep longer than a few hours at a time.  Slipping from the bed, he began to stretch, twisting and turning his torso, loosening the tight muscles.  Walking to the window, he pulled the curtains open, letting in the streaming sunlight.  Idly scratching his balls, he peered out the window at the still sleeping town.  Walking back to the middle of the room, he began a series of slow, deliberate movements, each katana flowing into the next as he focused his chi and blocked the rest of the world out.  Deep, even breaths expanded his chest as he moved through the forms, sweat beading along his forehead and gathering along the curve of his spine.

 

When he finished, he was covered in sweat but his mind was clearer than it had been in a long time.  Taking a deep breath, he held the final pose briefly before releasing the pent up air and padding lightly into the bathroom.  Flipping on the shower, he pulled the curtain aside and stepped in, letting the pounding spray wash away the sweat.

 

~*~

 

First things first, he needed a set of wheels.  No way was he going to drive his baby down to the shithole and have some asshole with a grudge go after it.  As he cruised slowly down the main drag, a small auto lot caught his eye.  He pulled over and locked up, walking briskly through the menagerie of cars until a big orange beater caught his eye.  It had definitely seen better days, but he popped the hood and the engine looked clean.  As he lifted his head, he saw the lone salesman come up, a shit eating grin on his face.  “She’s a runner.”

 

“Run good?” Peeta grunted, checking the wires and connections quickly.

 

“Smooth as a baby’s ass.” 

 

The guy was all teeth and smarmy as hell, but the car looked sound.  He dropped the hood and held out his hand.  “I’ll take it.”

 

Fifty minutes and a grand later, Peeta was the proud owner of the orange wildebeest.  He pocketed the keys and told the salesguy he’d be back later that afternoon.  As he slid behind the seat of his Mercedes, he picked up the paper he’d bought earlier and glanced down at the circled ad.  Shifting the car into gear, he headed down the road.

 

~*~

 

The farm was peaceful and well off the beaten track but the road down was smoothed out and the Mercedes didn’t have any trouble navigating it.  Pulling up in front of a giant barn, he turned off the car and stepped out, a smile curving his lips as he took in the silence.  This was perfect.  Isolated and peaceful, it would give him a place to recharge after dealing with the garbage at the bar every night.

 

“Hello.”

 

Peeta turned and saw an old woman walking towards him.  She peered up, squinting against the bright sunshine as she looked him up and down.  “Hello,” Peeta said softly.  “I hear you have a room to rent.”

 

She nodded.  “You honest?”

 

Peeta smiled, doing his best choirboy act.  “Yes, ma’am.”

 

She nodded sharply again, moving off towards the barn.  “C’mon then, lemme show it to you.”  She led the way into the barn and up a pair of sturdy steps to the loft area of the barn.  A small, efficiency apartment took up the entire space, with French doors that opened out onto the roof of the barn.  When they reached the top stair, she moved back to let him come up, sticking her hand out. “I’m Sae.”

 

“Peeta,” he said, shaking her hand firmly.

 

“There’s no tv, no air conditioning and no microwave,” she said, waving her hand airily. 

 

Peeta looked around quickly and turned back to her with a wide grin.  “I’ll take it.”

 

She peered at him suspiciously.  “How’s a hundred bucks a month sound?  Mind you, I don’t really want to charge you that much, but the Presbyterian’s would have me roasting in hell if I didn’t charge you something.”

 

“A hundred is fine.”

 

“You can afford that much?” Sae pressed.

 

He gave her another choirboy innocent smile.  “Yes, ma’am.  I don’t want you to jeopardize your immortal soul.  A hundred a month is very reasonable.”

 

Sae snorted and laughed.  “Son, calling me ma’am is like having an elevator in an outhouse – it just don’t belong.  And as for the rent, well, I don’t care all that much, but you know how those ladies can talk.”

 

“Would you mind if I parked my car in the barn?”

 

She looked over his shoulder at the gleaming Mercedes.  “That’s fine, as long as you don’t crowd the horses.”

 

Peeta pulled out his wallet and took out two crisp one hundred dollar bills.  “First month and security,” he said as he held them out.

 

Sae took the money and folded it up, tucking it into her brassiere.  “Come on up to the house, we’ll get you a key.”  Just as she finished speaking, the loud thumping whine of a helicopter filled the air, making it nearly impossible to hear anything.  The horses milled about in fear as the pilot buzzed the barn before heading off across the river to the mansion sitting almost directly across from where they stood.

 

“Damn him, I swear he does that on purpose,” Sae grumbled as she went to soothe the horses.

 

Peeta turned to watch the helicopter land on the roof of the mansion, his eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun.  A tall, white haired man stepped out of the passenger seat and disappeared into the house, leaving the machine whining behind him as the rotors slowed and finally stopped.  Silence filled the small clearing once more.  What a strange damn place this was!


	3. Chapter 3

Peeta walked into the Double Deuce and headed straight up to Chaff’s office.  Knocking lightly, he pushed open the door when he heard the older man’s voice telling him to enter.  Easing up the legs of his linen trousers, he sat down in one of the chairs that flanked the desk.  “You ready for this?”

 

Chaff scrubbed his face, glancing over Peeta’s shoulder to the plans laid out on the big board hanging on the wall.  “Yes and no.”

 

Peeta smiled ruefully.  “It’s going to get bad before it gets better.”

 

Chaff nodded.  “I know, but I’m ready.”  His troubled expression cleared slightly and he laughed.  “Or at least I think I am.”

 

Peeta chuckled.  “Okay, let’s get this done.  It’s time to take out the trash.”

 

~*~

 

The rush had been crazy, but finally everyone that didn’t belong was out of the bar, leaving only the employees sitting around, wondering what in the hell was going on.  Peeta walked out of Chaff’s office, trailing behind the big man as they made their way to the bottom.  He leaned against the wall as Chaff cleared his throat, garnering everyone’s attention.

 

“I know you’re all wondering what’s going on and I’m gonna tell you, tonight.”  He gestured towards Peeta.  “The Double Deuce is making some changes, starting right now.  I’ve hired the best damn cooler in the business. This is Peeta, and whatever he says goes.  He’s in charge of all the bar business.”

 

Peeta pushed up off the wall and walked down until he stood on the last step, looking out over the assembled staff.  His eyes landed on a hulking blond brute named Cato and he pointed at him.  “Cato, you’re out.  You don’t have the temperament for the job.”

 

The big blond man kicked his chair back as he rose, fists clenched tightly at his side.  “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” he snarled inches from Peeta’s face.

 

Peeta gave him a bland smile. “There’s always barber college.”

 

Cato growled, his face flushing a deep, angry red.  “You’re a dead man,” he snarled, grabbing the envelope that Chaff held out to him and crushing it in one meaty fist.

 

Peeta folded his arms across his chest and watched the bigger man storm out of the bar, the door slamming hard against the wall.  Turning back to the staff, his eyes landed on one of the waitresses, a rail thin redhead that had a perpetually runny nose.  “You’re out to Finch; we’re selling booze here, not drugs.”

 

She stood up and glared, weaving her way through the crowd to snatch the envelope Chaff held out to her.  She flipped Peeta off before walking to the door, jerking it open and storming outside.

 

He shook his head and glanced out over the remaining group.  “Anyone else?  I’m telling you straight, it’s my way or the highway, so if you’ve got a problem, leave now.”  He eyeballed everyone in the tense silence.  “Alright, people who really want to have a good time won’t come to a slaughterhouse.”

 

One of the bouncers, a short man with dark brown hair spoke up.  “That sure sounds nice, but some of these guys, we just can’t take one on one, or even two on one.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Peeta said, smiling to soften the words.  “You only have to remember three simple rules.  One – never underestimate your opponent.  Expect the unexpected.  Two – take it outside, never start anything inside the bar.  Three – be nice.”

 

“Come on.”

 

Peeta stopped pacing in front of them and walked back to where the man sat.  He leaned closer, keeping eye contact.  “If someone walks up and calls you a cocksucker, I want you to be nice.”

 

The guy gave him an incredulous look. “Okay,” he said.

 

Peeta moved back to the front of the room.  “Ask him to walk, but be nice.  If he won’t walk – walk him, but be nice.  If you can’t walk him, one of the others will help you and you’ll both be nice.”  He turned back to face them, folding his arms across his chest.  “I want you to remember that it’s a job. It’s nothing personal.”

 

Marvel, one of the other bouncers gave him a sour look.  “Uh huh, being called a cocksucker ain’t personal?”

 

Peeta walked over and stood in front of him, meeting his smug stare with ease.  “No, its two nouns combined to elicit a proscribed response.”

 

Marvel laughed.  “What if they call my momma a whore?”

 

Peeta lifted a brow.  “Is she?”

 

Marvel stared at him sourly, his eyes narrowing.  Peeta walked back to the front of the group.  “I want you to be nice until its time to not be nice.”

 

“And how do we know when that is?”

 

Peeta turned to speak to the man who’d called out, a tall, skinny guy with black hair and a nervous tic in his cheek.  “You won’t.  I’ll let you know.  You’re the bouncers, I am the cooler.  All you have to do is watch each other’s back and mine and together we’ll take out the trash.”

 

~*~

 

Four nights later, Peeta leaned up against the bar, drinking his coffee.  His eyes roamed the bar, never stopping.  His head jerked to the left as the sound of a glass breaking drew his attention.  One of the patrons had knocked the glasses off his table to the floor and had his date up on it, dancing.  Peeta snapped his fingers, getting the attention of one of the bouncers, nodding towards the girl dancing.

 

The bouncer moved to where the woman was gyrating on top of the table.  “Ma’am, gonna have to ask you to get down.”

 

“Back off, mother fucker,” her date snarled, whipping out a knife.  

Peeta was behind him in a second, grabbing the back of his head and ploughing it into the nearest table.  The guy slumped in his grasp, blood streaming down his face from his broken nose.  Peeta dumped him unceremoniously on the floor and held his hand up to the woman, smiling.  She slid her palm into his and stepped down, following the two bouncers that had picked up her date and were hauling him out of the bar.  He heard people whispering and muttering all around him, but he resolutely ignored them as he walked back to his spot at the end of the bar and leaned against the pole. Gale spoke into the silence.  “The name is Peeta.”

 

~*~

 

After the doors were locked, Peeta moved behind the bar, standing next to the same asshole that had given him shit the first night he’d been here.  “Gloss, you’ve got quite the little operation going on here.”

 

Gloss looked at him and sneered.  “What?”

 

“You’re going through a bottle every thirty minutes, skimming the till for six shots a bottle, drafts one every ten.”  Peeta turned to look at Chaff.  “I figure he’s costing you about one fifty a night.”

 

“So,” Gloss said, slapping the cash drawer shut and turning to face Peeta.

 

Peeta gave him a hard smile. “So consider it severance pay, and hit the road.”

 

Gloss flicked his gaze to Chaff, an oily smile on his face.  “I didn’t hear you say that?”

 

Chaff looked pained.  “Well, I’m sayin it now.”

 

The smile got even wider.  “You sure about that?”

 

After Gloss left, Chaff lifted his tumbler.  “Well, it was a good night, nobody died!”

 

Peeta sighed.  “It’ll get worse before it gets better.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Hello?  Peeta!”

 

Peeta rolled over, squinting at the clock.  He’d finally fallen asleep around four and it was fuck me, seven am?  Who the fuck was waking him up?”

 

“Peeta!”  Delly Ann came walking up the stairs to his loft, a small brown bag and two coffees in her hands.  “I brought you some breakfast.”

 

Peeta groaned and rolled out of bed, padding naked over to where he’d left a pair of jeans, pulling them up over his legs and buttoning them enough to be decent.  He turned to find Delly Ann watching him, her expression glazed.  “What happened last night?”  Mentally he sighed.  Another crush.  He knew better than to fuck where he ate, the only thing that came out of that was trouble.  Delly Ann was a nice girl, but she was a bit too bubbly.  Besides, he didn’t have room in his life for nice girls.  They wanted all the shit that he wasn’t ready to give them – houses and kids and a husband that was there every night.  Shit, it was all he could do to keep his own shit together, let alone be there for someone else.  Memphis had taught him that much, at least.

 

Peeta raked his hands through his hair and walked to the small table, dropping down into a chair and reaching for the coffee she slid over to him.  “What do you mean?”

 

Delly Ann shook her head.  “You fired Gloss, the bartender!”

“So?”

 

Delly Ann laughed.

 

“What is the joke?” Peeta asked, taking a sip of his coffee and ignoring the sugar laden donut she’d also brought.

 

“Oh, there’s no joke,” she said, taking a bit of her donut.  “I just think I’m looking at a dead man.”

 

Peeta sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes.  “If I had a dime for every time I heard that.”

 

~*~

 

“A new windshield is gonna cost you more than that old beater is worth.  My advice is to scrap her.”

 

Peeta laughed.  “Well, I like her, so go ahead and get me one.”

 

“Alright, let’s go inside.  Haymitch Abernathy,” he said, sticking out his hand. 

 

“Peeta.”

 

“How long you gonna be in town?” Haymitch asked as he walked back behind the counter and began perusing the shelves for the aerial for Peeta’s car.

 

“Not very long,” Peeta said, leaning against the counter.

 

Haymitch laughed. “Yeah, that’s what I said, twenty five years ago.”

 

“Really?  What happened?”

 

“Oh, I got married… to an ugly woman.”  Haymitch returned to the counter.  “Don’t ever do that, sucks the life right outta you.  You want to run a tab or pay as you go?”

 

The bell over the door jingled and a short, white haired man walked in trailed by a tall, muscular guy who looked like he’d done some hard time.  White hair walked right up to the counter, a shit eating grin on his face.  “Coriolanus Snow, pleasure to meet you.”

 

Peeta stuck out his hand.  “Peeta.”

 

Snow tilted his head, nodding.  “You’re the boy from the Double Deuce, right?”

 

Peeta nodded, reaching into his wallet to lay a twenty down on the counter.  “Yes sir.”  He glanced up at Haymitch.  “I’ll pay as I go, thanks.”

 

Snow slapped the counter.  “Good to know, glad you’re trying to clean that place up, bad element down there.”

 

Peeta scooped up his change.  “Thanks Haymitch, just give me a call when the windshield comes in.”  He wrote his number down on the receipt that Haymitch slid over.  Snow was still watching him and it made his skin crawl.  There was definitely something off about him, and the muscle behind him.  The man had dead eyes that followed Peeta all the way to the door.

 

~*~

 

Peeta sat on the bed in the exam room, trying to focus enough to block out the pain radiating from his ribs.  It burned like a son of a bitch, but he was damn lucky it wasn’t any deeper, what with the size of knife that fucker Gloss had wielded.  Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, blowing it out through his mouth as the nurse’s aid bustled around, setting things up for the doctor.  Fucker hadn’t taken getting fired very well, but Peeta doubted he’d be back; getting your knee blown out wasn’t exactly conducive to fighting.  It was one of the first lessons Finnick had taught him.  Doesn’t matter how big a guy was, take out their knee and they dropped like a stone.  Gloss was a coward too, and after going through the big plate glass window in front of the entire bar, he’d be crawling into a hole somewhere to lick his wounds and cry to Uncle about how shitty he’d been treated.  Peeta knew he hadn’t heard the last of Coriolanus Snow.

 

His musings were interrupted as the doctor walked into the exam room.  He smelled her before he saw her, the scent of evergreen and thick, loamy forest filled his senses and his eyes opened slowly, a smile curving his lips as a short, dark haired woman came to a stop between his spread thighs.  “Hello, I’m Dr. Everdeen.”  Damn!  He’d never had such a visceral reaction to a woman before, like he needed to touch her or he’d die.  His heart pounded in his chest and he could barely tear his eyes away from her, drinking in the sight of her. Shit, she smelled fucking amazing and looked even better.  Wide grey eyes, dark hair caught up in a braid – nothing fancy but it was making his libido go into overdrive.

 

“Hello,” he drawled softly, hissing slightly as she bent closer to examine his wound, her fingers gentle on his lacerated skin.

 

“How did this happen?” she asked, picking up his chart and perusing it.  He leaned a bit closer and took another deep breath, the piney scent grounding him, making it easier to block out the pain.

 

“Natural causes.”

 

Her gaze lifted and locked with his, one dark brow arching as grey eyes met his blue.  “It looks like a knife wound to me,”

 

Peeta shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner even though it cost him.  “Like I said…”  He handed over the thick file he’d brought in with him that held the sum total of his life of pain and misery.

 

She scanned the file, glancing up at him periodically as the aid put out the staple gun and a syringe.  “You’re a bouncer?”

 

He nodded.  “Mm hmm, Double Deuce.”

 

“Nice place, they send a lot of business my way.”

 

“I’m hoping to change that,” Peeta said, smiling as she stepped closer, setting down the file onto the bed next to him.  He held his arm up, resting his hand on the back of his head.

 

“All by yourself?”   Her voice was soft and it punched him in the gut.  As she turned to slide her hands into the gloves the assistant held out, he inhaled sharply, trying to focus and failing miserably.  “Well Mr. Mellark, you can add nine staples to your dossier of thirty-one broken bones, two bullet wounds, nine puncture wounds and four stainless steel screws – that’s an estimate of course.  I’ll give you a local.” 

 

Turning back around, she held the syringe in her hand.  His eyes dropped to it and then back up to her face. “No thank you.”

 

She gave him a concerned look.  “Do you enjoy pain?”

 

He chuckled softly.  “Pain don’t hurt.”

 

She shook her head and put the syringe back down on the tray, picking up the staple gun.  “Most of my patients would disagree with you.”  Peeta gave her a smile and she bent closer, pulling the edges of his wound together.  The second he felt her fingers on his skin, he had to fight to maintain his breathing, heart racing at her nearness.  She put the first staple in and he flinched.  Looking down, he met her gaze once more.  “Why do you carry your medical file around with you?”  Another staple, another flinch.

 

He inhaled and exhaled slowly.  “Saves time.”  Another staple.  Breathing slowly, he forced his mind to ignore the pain, concentrating instead on the scent that rose from her hair and the way her fingers moved gently over his skin, bringing the tattered edges of it together.

 

“Your file says you have a degree from NYU.  What’s it in?”

 

Another staple.  Fuck that one hurt.  He flinched and exhaled.  “Philosophy.”

 

Her gaze lifted and locked with his, a smile dancing on her lips.  “Any particular discipline?”

 

He flinched as yet another staple entered his flesh.  “No, not really.  Um, man’s search for faith, that sort of … shit.”  Her grin widened at his last word and the pain melted away as he sank into the deep grey of her eyes.

 

“Find any answers?” She asked, putting in another staple.

 

He laughed.  “Not too many.”  Another staple and another, he counted in his head, she was nearly finished.  Her lips were tantalizingly close to his stomach and he focused on keeping his breathing steady and trying to not let all the blood in his body go to his cock.  He was fighting a losing battle.  His body wanted her, badly and was taking great pains to let him know it.

 

Another staple.  “How does a guy like you end up a bouncer?”

 

He sucked in a heavy breath.  “Just lucky, I guess.”  Their gazes locked once more and he could see the delicate flush that rose to her cheeks.  It turned him on.  Really, really turned him on.  He wanted to touch her, run his fingers over that smooth olive skin and discover all the secrets she was hiding beneath the loose doctors coat and the slim dress that hugged her slight curves.  The last staple slid into his skin with a click of the gun and then she was halfway across the room from where he sat, setting the gun down on the tray and making notes in his file.

 

As she turned around with the bandage, she caught sight of the thin line of stiches on his shoulder he’d gotten the night Chaff had come to hire him.  “Nice work. Clean stitches.”

 

Peeta smiled.  “Thank you.”

 

She laughed, pressing the bandage over the staples.  “Do you ever win a fight?”

 

Peeta’s expression sobered.  “Nobody ever wins a fight,” he said ruefully.  Tension rose hot and full between them, her fingers sliding over his torso.  He felt goosebumps rise beneath her touch and he closed his eyes briefly, savoring the sensation of her fingers.

 

“You’re all set.”  She stepped back, her gaze darting between his bare chest and his face.

 

Peeta smiled.  “Thanks.”  He put his arm down, wincing a bit as the staples pulled.  “Listen, uh,” he slid off the table, ducking his chin to his chest. “If you’d like to stop by the Double Deuce something,” he grabbed his file, desperate to keep his hands from shaking, “I could buy you a cup of coffee… or something.”  Lifting his head, he stared at her and his gut clenched at the soft glow that rode up her cheeks.

 

Her smile was wide.  “If I happen to be in the neighborhood, you mean?”

 

Peeta wanted to cheer.  She was flirting back!  Hot damn! “Yeah, something like that.”

 

She nodded, shrugging her shoulders, a soft flush tingeing her cheeks.  Peeta grabbed his file and his shirt, shrugging the white linen on over his shoulders.  He could feel her gaze on him and he looked up to find her staring at him.

 

“You know, for that line of work,” her gaze drifted slowly over his torso, lingering on his hips, “I thought you’d be bigger.”

 

He laughed, feeling his own cheeks heat.  “Gee, I’ve never heard that before.”


	5. Chapter 5

Peeta lifted his phone to his ear, after dialing the number written hastily on the back of card.  There was some deep shit going on in this town and he needed to get to the bottom of it before someone got killed.  The line connected and as soon as he heard the name of the bar, he smiled.  “Finnick Odair, tell him it’s Peeta.”

 

There was the sound of movement and loud music in the background as whoever answered the phone called for Finnick.  “Meeho!”  His mentor and friend’s warm voice filled the line and something in Peeta relaxed just the tiniest bit.  There wasn’t a problem Finn didn’t have an answer to, for as long as he’d known him.  He’d even managed to get that shit in Memphis reduced to a misdemeanor.  “Heard you stepped into a pile of steaming shit. What’s going on?”

 

“Finn!  Man, this is the worst place I think I’ve ever seen,” Peeta said as he leaned against the bar, watching the waitresses prepare for opening.

 

Finnick laughed.  “This place is filled with so many dumbshits there’s a sign above the urinal, don’t eat the big white pill.”

 

Peeta chuckled darkly.  “I doubt that’d deter the shitheads that frequent the Double Deuce.”

 

Finn’s voice was sober.  “You need help?”

 

“You ever heard of someone named Coriolanus Snow?”

 

The line was silent for a long moment.  “Nope, that don’t sound familiar.”

 

Peeta sighed into the phone.  “It’s probably nothing, but I get a really bad feeling from him.”

 

Finnick’s voice was hard.  “Don’t go trying to be a hero, Peeta.  Walk away if he bothers you that much, money ain’t worth dying over.”

 

“Thanks, Finn.  I’ll think about it.”  Over the line he heard the beginnings of a brawl. “Sounds like you’re busy; I’ll talk to you later.”

 

“Keep it cool, meeho,” Finnick said, ending the call.

 

Peeta pressed end and tucked his phone back into his pocket, his lips set in a pensive line.  He’d just have to be extra careful for a while, until he figured out what the fuck was going on in this place.

 

~*~

 

Peeta leaned up against the bar, watching the crowd on the dance floor.  Gale was rocking it tonight, and now that they’d removed the chicken wire, it looked more and more like a respectable bar.  Delly Ann was up on the stage as well, singing along.

 

“I didn’t know she could sing,” Darius said as he joined Peeta, leaning against the bar.

 

Peeta’s smile faded as the doors opened, revealing a crew of Snow’s henchmen including Cato.  His eyes flicked down to the guy in the lead, taking note of the razor blade embedded in the toe of his boot.  “Right boot,” he said tersely, pushing up off the bar to stand in front of the entrance, blocking them.  He saw four of the other bouncers move to flank him.  “Sorry, we’re closed,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.

 

The big one in the lead glared at him, looking over his shoulder at the crowd.  “Then what’re all these people doing here?”

 

Peeta glanced briefly over his shoulder, unfolding his hands, dropping them loosely at his sides.  “Drinking and having a good time.”

 

Tall and stupid sneered.  “Well, that’s what we’re here for!”  He lifted his leg, aiming a kick at Peeta’s groin. 

 

Peeta grabbed his foot and twisted, dropping the man to the floor and nearly breaking his ankle.  The rest of his backup was immediately set upon by Peeta’s crew, keeping the damage to the interior of the bar to a minimum.  Peeta dragged the man out of the doors and jerked the boot free, tossing it up on the roof before throwing a roundhouse into the guy’s face as he leapt up from the ground.  “You’re too stupid to have a good time!” Peeta snarled, jabbing a quick left to the guy’s ribs and another deep right to his jaw.

 

The fight began in earnest, punches coming from the left and right.  Peeta ducked a wild fist and kicked out the leader’s knee, slamming his ears for good measure as he fell to the ground.  The rest of the crew took care of the remaining guys, all of them dropping to the dust.  Darius came up, grinning madly.  Peeta smiled.  “You can be the biggest guy in the world, you take out his knee and he drops like a stone.” The crowd was going wild, cheering madly but as Peeta turned and saw Katniss standing beside the entrance in a red checkered dress, everything else fell away.

 

He walked slowly across the parking lot, brushing off his white linen trousers and black t-shirt.  He stopped just below her, leaning one foot on the stair she stood on.  “Hey,” he said softly, reaching for her hands.  “Looking for somebody?”

 

Katniss smiled, tongue swiping across her lips.  “You.”

 

~*~

 

Peeta took a long sip of his coffee, staring over the rim at Katniss.   She’d sat next to him at the Deuce the rest of the night, her hand drumming lightly on his thigh as Gale had rocked the house after the fight.  He’d been sporting a semi most of the night, the smell of her perfume hitting him like a ton of bricks.  As soon as the last patron was out the door, he’d hustled her outside and into her jeep, looking for a quiet spot to talk.  They’d ended up at Bonnie’s Grill, a hole in the wall out on the old highway where the food was good and there wasn’t anyone louder than the old drunk snoring in the last booth.

 

Katniss took a sip of her coffee and put it down, leaning onto the table.  “Are you always better than they are?”

 

Peeta shrugged, setting his cup down.  “Pretty much.”

 

She laughed softly, nervously. “Never been put down?”

 

He shook his head.  “No…not really.”  He took another sip of his coffee.

 

“How do you explain that?”  Her voice was soft, but intent, her gaze locked on his face. 

 

Peeta flushed and fiddled with his cup. “The ones that go looking for trouble are not that much of a problem to someone that’s ready for them.  I suspect it’s always been that way.”  His gaze was drawn to the booth behind them and the man snoring, nearly falling out of the seat.  Peeta leaned over and caught him, gently pushing him back upright.

 

Katniss smiled. “Somebody has to do it.”

 

Peeta shook his head.  “Somebody has to pay somebody to do it,” he clarified.

 

Katniss’ gaze dropped to the table and she had a sad look on her face.  “Might as well be you.”

Ouch, that hurt, Peeta thought as he stared everywhere but at her.  Is that what she really thought of him?  Here he’d been thinking things were going pretty damn good, but maybe he’d misread all the signals.  He lifted his cup, finishing off the last of his coffee.  “I’d better take you home, I keep on talking you’re going to think that I’m a nice guy.”  He gave her a hopeful smile.

 

Her gaze lifted and locked with his.  “I know you’re not a nice guy.”

 

His smile faltered and he slid out of the booth, standing up next to it.  The waiter walked by, his lip curled in disgust.  “Damn drunks, I outta just start charging him rent.”

 

Peeta dug into his pocket and threw down a twenty.  “Tonight’s rent,” he said, giving the waiter a steely look.  Katniss slid out of the booth and stood up, slinging her purse over her shoulder.  Peeta put his hand on her lower back, as they walked to the door of the diner.

 

The drive back to the Deuce was short and filled with more of the tense silence that had begun at the diner.  Katniss parked next to his car, her expression stricken as she saw the stop sign sticking out of the shattered passenger window and the four flat tires.  “Your fan club?”

 

Peeta chuckled softly.  “They are devoted.”

 

Katniss turned off the jeep and sat back, glancing over at him out of the corner of her eye.  “You live some kind of life, Peeta.”

 

Peeta sighed, he’d heard this speech more than he’d ever cared to.  “Too…ugly for you.”

 

She shook her head, turning to look at him fully.  “I didn’t say that.”

 

Peeta lifted his head, staring at her, his hand moving blindly to the seat belt, unfastening it as he leaned over, one hand sliding along her jaw, the other landing on her shoulder as their lips met in a soft, wet kiss that left him hungry for more.  Her hand slid across his chest as she pulled back, eyes dilated with need.

 

“Bye,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips.

 

“See ya,” he replied, getting out of the jeep and standing next to his car.  He glanced back at her and his heart thumped as their gazes collided once more.

 

“Do you need a ride?”

 

He grinned widely.  “If you’d be so obliged?”

 

Katniss tilted her head, nodding.  “Get in, handsome.”

 

The ride out to the barn was mostly silent, the radio playing softly as the wind blew gently through the open windows.  Peeta laid his hand atop her thigh as she drove and he could feel her muscles shifting as she worked the gas and break.  He felt electric, like his bodies synapses were all firing at once.  He gave her quiet directions and as they pulled up in front of the big structure, the silence turned tense once more.

 

“Would you like to come up for a drink?”

 

A soft smile curved her lips.  “I’d love to,” she said, turning off the jeep and unbuckling her belt.  Peeta leaned over, capturing her lips with his once more.  The kiss turned carnal, lips and tongues colliding in a miasma of heat and need.  His hand drifted over her shoulder and landed on her breast, squeezing lightly.  She gasped into his mouth and he pulled back, eyes searching hers.

 

Her cheeks were flushed and her lips swollen as she stared back at him, the lights from the mansion across the water spilling enough light for him to see her clearly.  “Let’s go inside,” he said softly.

 

Katniss nodded, stepping out of the jeep and walking around to where he stood.  Peeta threaded their fingers together and led her into the barn, up the stairs to where his loft was.  She turned to ask him silent permission and he nodded, releasing her hand after kissing her fingers.  She walked over to the French doors and pushed them open, letting in the warm, summer air.  “It’s so beautiful out here.”

 

“It’s quiet and the horses let me know if someone’s coming,” he said, flipping on the radio to a soft, easy station before leaning against one of the walls, watching her.

 

Katniss turned around, banked heat in her gaze as she stared unabashed at him.  “It’s perfect.”

 

Peeta smiled, pushing up off the wall and walking towards her.  She met him halfway, her mouth already parted to receive his kiss.  His hands cupped her jaw, tilting her head just slightly as he fitted his body to hers, hard planes to sleek, soft curves.  Her arms slid along his waist, fingers teasing along the waistband of his dress slacks.

 

He lifted his hands, grabbing the back of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head, breaking the heady kiss to do so.  Balling it up, he tossed it in the corner and let his gaze wander slowly over her body.  Their gazes locked and she reached behind her back, slowly sliding the zipper of her dress down until it hung loosely on her petite frame.  Shrugging her shoulders, she let it drop and stepped out of it, standing before him in nothing but her bra and panties.  He grinned widely, unfastening the button on his pants and letting them slide down his lean hips, puddling on the floor at his feet.  Bending down, he unfastened his shoes and pulled them and his socks off, tossing everything towards where his shirt lay.  Rising back up, he arched a brow, a wicked smirk tilting his lips as he stood completely bare before her, his cock straining upwards, hard and ready.

 

She lifted her hand, crooking her finger at him and he nodded, hands sliding over her hips before moving up her back, unhooking the clasp on her bra.  It slithered down her arms and he bent down, pulling her panties down as she tossed her bra towards his clothes.

 

Standing back up, he cupped her hips, drawing her closer, their mouths meeting in a hot, wet tangle that had them both moaning, hands roaming over bare skin.  He bent, hands slipping beneath her ass, picking her up against him.  Her legs wound around his waist and he nearly growled as her small hand curved around the length of his cock, stroking slowly.

 

Their eyes met once more and she nodded, tongue swiping along her lips.  He spun around, walking them towards the fireplace and the heavy mahogany mantle.  Pinning her up against it, he bent just enough to position his cock at her entrance, her fingers still moving over him.  Her nails dug into his arms as he slowly lowered her body, filling her with one thick, heavy stroke.

 

Peeta swallowed her gasp; his own low moan lost in the heat of her mouth as their tongues dueled softly, mimicking the movements of their joined bodies.  She felt amazing, soft and tight and making those noises in the back of her throat that had his balls tightening and heart thumping madly in his chest.  He wanted to make it good for her, needed to have her feel as much as he was feeling.  Bracing her back against the mantle, his slipped his hand between their bodies, rubbing her clit with every stroke.  She threw her head back and let loose a high, keening moan, her hands sliding up his arms to his shoulders, blunt nails digging in.  Slowing his thrusts, he moved his hand back to her ass, lifting her gently with each push until her gaze met his once more, eyes dilated with bliss. She leaned forward, lips tangling with his again, her tongue darting into his mouth to tease against his.  He groaned and kissed her back fiercely, his cock swelling inside of her as she tightened her muscles and used him for leverage, pushing up and back down, her heels digging into his ass. Damn, he couldn’t last much longer, not the way she felt – hot slick velvet heat pumping him like a vise. He felt her come again, pulsating around his cock and it felt so good – so fucking good that he couldn’t hold on, following her over the edge with a harsh groan.  Her hands were in his hair, nails scratching lightly over his scalp as they both panted heavily, sweat slick bodies sticking together.

 

Peeta pulled away from her with a low groan, Katniss echoing the sound as her legs unwound from his waist.  He bent forward, giving her a lingering kiss, teeth nibbling gently at her lower lip.  His hands found hers, fingers tangling together as he walked backwards towards the bed, collapsing on it when his knees hit it.  He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her down with him, chuckling at her soft oomph as she landed splayed atop him.

 

“It’s hot,” she whined softly, rolling to the side and flipping up the edge of the sheet, fanning herself with it.

 

“C’mon,” he said, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the bed, turning around to hold his hand out to her.

 

Katniss slid her palm against his and let him pull her from the bed.  He padded over to the French doors, snagging a blanket off of the chair beside it before stepping out onto the roof.  He released her hand and spread out the blanket, turning back to face her.  “It’s cooler out here.”

 

She sat down, knees pulled up to her chest as he settled beside her, staring out into the star laden night.  The lights from across the way were still blazing brightly, but they faded away into nothing as she leaned her head on his shoulder.  This, he could get used to.


	6. Chapter 6

Peeta was outside, sitting on the hood of his car when two of Snow’s henchmen pulled up.  He sighed deeply.  He’d known this was coming but it still didn’t make it any easier to deal with.  Snow was batshit crazy, worse than anyone he’d ever known.

 

“Mr. Snow wants to see you.”

 

Peeta sat up, making the two of them jump back.  Hiding his smile behind a cough, he slid off the car, picking up his jacket and sliding it on.  “After you.”

 

The ride was short, just down the road and across the bridge, the long meandering driveway ending in a circle before the house.  Loud music was blaring as he stepped inside and his eyes were drawn to a small room off to the left and a woman in workout clothes doing yoga.  Their eyes locked and her gaze skittered away, but not before he saw the prominent bruise encircling her eye and the split in her lip.  She’d been at the Deuce the other night, flirting with him and the other bouncers.  Peeta’s estimation of Snow dropped another degree as she ran from the room and his knowing gaze.

 

Snow was on the porch, eating breakfast when Peeta walked in.  “Welcome!  Would you like a bloody mary?”  Peeta shook his head, walking over to the end of the room, picking up a black and white portrait of a severe looking man.  “My grandfather,” Snow said.

 

Peeta set the picture back down and turned to face Snow once more.  “He looks like an important man.”

 

Snow snorted into his bloody mary.  “He was an asshole.”

 

Peeta walked to the other side of the large room and sat down on one of the chairs lining the wall as Snow continued to speak.  “I built this town, from nothing.  I brought it all here.”

 

Peeta lifted one foot and crossed his legs, settling his ankle on his knee.  “You got rich off the people of this town.”

“Damn right I did,” Snow said, spittle flying from his mouth in his excitement.  “And I’m going to get richer.”

 

Peeta stared at him steadily, knowing anything he said would just egg the man on more.  Finally Snow calmed down, picking up his fork once more. “I have a cousin in Memphis,” he said, taking a bite of egg and spinning around to face Peeta.  “Says you killed a man down there, and said it was self defense when they asked you about it on the stand.”

 

And that’s when Peeta knew it was time to leave.  He’d seen his type time and again.  They used and used until there was nothing left, garnering every bit of leverage they could until they owned a person body and soul.  Standing up, he straightened his jacket, Snow’s next words leaving him cold.

 

“So, say I owned a bar that I needed cleaning up, how much would it be for you to work for me?”

 

No way in hell would he work for the piece of shit that sat before him, it was bad enough he carried that shit from Memphis, he wouldn’t owe anyone anything ever again.  “No amount of money,” Peeta said, striding from the room.  He’d walk back to the barn, forget about getting back into the car with men that carried the stench of Snow on them.  He’d use the walk to clear his head.

 

~*~

 

“Just when I finally get this place the way I want it, I run out of booze.”  Chaff leaned against the bar next to Peeta, darting worried glances behind the bar.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Chaff sighed.  “Ever since we fired Gloss, Snow has cut us off.  I’ve called every supplier I know, no one will sell to me.  We’re down to our last case of whiskey and the kegs are nearly empty as well.”

  
Peeta nodded, reaching for his phone.  “I’ll take care of it, you’ll have a delivery tomorrow, I just need a list of everything that’s low.”

 

Chaff grinned at him.  “You can do that?”

 

Peeta nodded.  “You don’t work in the business for fifteen years and not have a few connections.”

 

Chaff clapped him on the shoulder.  “I knew hiring you was one of the best decisions I ever made.”  He grabbed his glass and walked away, heading towards his office as Peeta began dialing.

 

 

~*~

 

Peeta walked into the Deuce and saw Gale sitting on the stage.  He’d been so damn busy getting everything in order he’d hardly had a chance to talk to him since all of the changes had been implemented.

 

“Hey Gale,” he said, walking over and sitting down on the stage next to him.

 

“Hey Peeta,” Gale said, holding out his hand.  Peeta shook it firmly.  “What’ve you been up to?”

 

Peeta shrugged, and then flushed as he forgot for a second that his friend couldn’t see him.  “Nothing much, usual things.”

 

Gale shook his head.  “That’s not what I’ve heard.  I heard you’ve been spending time with Katniss Everdeen.”

 

“So?” Peeta asked, bristling.  What the fuck was it with everyone wanting to know his business?

 

“You know who had a thing for Katniss Everdeen?  Coriolanus Snow.  As I her it, she left town and he went nuts.”

 

Peeta sighed.  Why was it every time something good came into his life, it had to come with a load of shit attached.

 

Gale spoke again.  “Small town, huh Peeta?  But that’s just the word.”

 

“Thanks,” Peeta said, getting up as Delly Ann waved for his attention.  The truck must be here to deliver.

 

~*~

 

Eleven am the next morning, a truck filled to the brim with liquor pulled into the parking lot at the Double Deuce.  Peeta was outside on the loading dock, helping the driver stack it onto the dolly to bring inside when he noticed a pickup truck filled with four hulking men pull up right beside the dock.  As they got out, Peeta nodded over at the driver.  “Go on, take a break Blight.”

 

The big man nodded and went inside the bar as the four men from the truck stepped up onto the dock.  Cato went immediately to the truck and began smashing bottles.  Peeta grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around, taking an uppercut to the jaw as he turned, knocking him back a few steps.  The biggest guy, easily six-six came up behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around his ribs and squeezing hard.  Peeta saw stars as he fought to get a breath, his jaw already swelling from Cato’s punch.

 

Two more guys began to smash the bottles off the truck as big and ugly and Cato worked Peeta over, trading punches.

 

“How’s it goin’ meeho?”

 

Cato looked up from where he was punching Peeta in the gut.  “Mind your own business, dad.”

 

Finnick Odair laughed and lifted a brow as tall dark and ugly walked over to him.  “What do you want, dickless?”

 

Finnick smiled and kicked the man’s knee out.  “I sure ain’t gonna show you my dick.”

 

The fight was over seconds after it began, Peeta and Finnick dropping the four bigger men with well placed kicks and punches as the other bouncers swarmed out of the bar.

 

As the crew took out the trash, Finnick laid his arm across Peeta’s shoulders.  “What the hell is going on?”

 

Peeta laughed, the sound ending on a groan as his bruised ribs protested.  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

 

~*~

 

“That girl has entirely too many brains to have an ass like that,” Finnick drawled as Katniss walked away, leaving the two men sitting alone in the booth at the diner.

 

Peeta laughed, shaking his head.  “She’d beat you bloody if she heard you say that.”

 

“You’ve got your hands full, kid,” Finnick said, taking a pull on his beer.

 

Peeta’s jaw tensed and he toyed absently with his own beer.

 

Finnick leaned back.  “What’s the matter?”

 

Peeta looked up, trying for a nonchalant grin, but of course Finnick saw right through it.

 

“Still living in the past, aren’t ya?”  His green eyes felt like they’d pierced his very soul and Peeta dropped his gaze to the table.  He watched Finnick lift his beer and take a long pull from beneath his lashes.  “We’re a long way from Memphis.”

 

The bottle clanged on the table, startling Peeta and he looked up, jaw clenched tightly. “Memphis has nothing to do with it,” he said firmly.

 

“Bullshit.”  Peeta flushed as Finnick gave him a mocking smile. “That dog won’t hunt.  Fuck, Peeta.  I can’t believe you’re still dragging that shit around with ya.  Seems to me,” he said, shrugging, “you’d be a little more…philosophical about it.  And cut. It. The. Fuck. Loose.”  Finnick’s expression was hard, eyes filled with too much knowledge.

 

He leaned across the table.  “You know that fucking cun-that fucking girl never told you she was married. Did. She?”  Tense silence rose between them like a wall.  “And when a man sticks a gun in your face, you got two choices, you can die or you can kill the motherfucker.”

 

Peeta’s expression didn’t change, but his cheeks paled as Finnick’s words sank in.  Katniss walked back to the table, wrapping her arms around Peeta’s neck from behind him.  “Don’t mean to bust up the party but my shift starts in a few hours and I need to go home and get some sleep.  Aren’t you guys tired?”

 

Peeta shook his head, unable to meet Finnick’s gaze.

 

Finn smiled up at Katniss.  “I’ll get all the sleep I need when I’m dead, sweetheart.”

 

Katniss leaned down, her lips inches from Peeta’s.  “Bye,” she whispered, kissing him gently.

 

His hand cupped her cheek, deepening the kiss, losing himself in the taste of her.


	7. Chapter 7

The bar was packed.  Gale was on fire tonight, busting out tunes like he was playing MadisonSquareGarden instead of some small potatoes bar in the middle of nowhere.  The line to get in wrapped around the building and the bar was going full tilt trying to keep up with the demand.

 

Darius burst in from outside, his face frantic.  “Peeta!  Haymitch’s place is on fire!”

 

Peeta ran outside and across the street, watching as the flames licked high into the night air.  Hands grabbed him before he could run across the street.  The wail of the fire engines could be heard in the distance and out of the corner of his eye he saw Haymitch fall to the ground beside his truck, a stricken expression on his face.

 

“You need to come back inside,” Delly Ann murmured as she came up beside him.

 

Peeta turned his head, searching her gaze.  She curled her hand around his arm.  “It’s Snow.”  He turned and ran back to the bar, stepping inside to see people scurrying out of the bar like it was on fire as well.  Snow sat at the bar, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his blond tart hanging off him like a trophy.  Finnick was next to him, hands loose at his sides – ready for the trouble that was about to begin.

“A round for the firemen out there, helping that good for nothing draft dodger Haymitch.  No good bum, never did anything worthwhile,” Snow said, lifting his glass.  Peeta caught the eye of the bartender and slowly shook his head.

 

As if a bomb had gone off, the sound in the bar dropped to nothing, people moving back to give Snow a wide berth.  He turned, seeing Peeta standing on the stairs.  An oily smile crossed his lips.  “Play some music in here, something she can dance to!”

 

Peeta nodded towards where Gale sat, his band fanned out behind him.  He caught Thom’s eye and the tall man bent down, speaking into Gale’s ear.  Moments later, the whine of Gale’s guitar filled the bar, Thom and Thresh joining in.  The blonde hanging off of Snow’s arm began to walk towards the stage, her hips swinging sultrily.  When she got to the stage, she began to move, rubbing up against the chair Gale sat in as she slowly unfastened her dress.  The dance was calculated and sinful, each hip swing and thrust designed to ratchet the tension in the already simmering bar up to nuclear.  Peeta snorted under his breath and walked up to the stage, holding out his hand to her.  She shook her head and tossed her dress in his face, her breasts bared for everyone to see. 

 

He’d had just about enough of this bullshit and reached for her, sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her off the stage.  As she slid down his body, she melded her lips to his in a frantic kiss that he didn’t return.  Grasping her arm lightly, he led her back to where Snow sat, a wide grin on his face.  “If you’re going to bring your pets out in public, at least have the decency to keep them on a leash,” Peeta said softly.  The blonde turned, and her hand darted out to smack him across the face.  Peeta caught her hand and shook his head. 

 

She jerked free of his embrace and stalked off towards the bathroom as Snow’s face lost its smile.  “You’re right.”  He raised his voice.  “Brutus!”

 

A tall, heavily muscled man walked out of the pool area, holding one of the sticks from the racks.  Darius and the other bouncers were standing beside the stairs as Brutus walked out into the middle of the dance floor and spun the stick around a few times, showing off his moves.  Darius’ eyes cut to Peeta and he nodded, motioning the three bouncers out onto the floor.

 

He heard Finnick’s low growl but ignored it, folding his arms across his chest as the four men moved around the floor.  Brutus wielded the stick like a master, spinning it and taking out every one of the guys in a complicated dance that left them all broken and bleeding on the floor.  “You!” Brutus roared, pointing at Finnick.  “Let’s dance, old man.”

 

Finnick moved forward quickly, sliding neatly out of the way as Brutus swung the stick again and again, never landing a hit.  Darting beneath the swinging stick, Finnick dropped a brutal uppercut on Brutus’s chin.  Dazed, the bigger man shook himself like a dog and threw the stick down, coming after Finnick with his bare hands.  As soon as they began to fight in earnest, the bar went crazy, the men Snow had brought with him attacking everyone in sight.  People streamed out the doors in a panic and Peeta ducked a punch from Cato, following it up with a smooth uppercut to the bigger man’s gut that dropped him like a stone.

 

A gunshot rent the air.  Everyone stopped in their tracks, heads turning to see Snow holding a small pistol in the air.  “All right, that’s enough,” he said, standing up.  Peeta met his stare with an icy one of his own.  “This isn’t working out, Peeta.”  Snow glanced around the bar, meeting the gaze of all of his men.  “Let’s go boys.”

 

Brutus sneered at Peeta.  “Your ass is mine, boy.”

 

~*~

 

Haymitch tossed another book into the box in front of him, waving off Garnel as he tried to talk to him.  “I’m done, I told you that a million times.  Coriolanus Snow just keeps getting richer while the rest of us get poorer.”

 

“I’ll help you rebuild, Haymitch,” Garnel said earnestly.  “I’ve got a friend up in Springfield, works for the feds.”

 

Haymitch growled under his breath, stomping over to where the heavyset man stood.  “Who’s gonna take the stand against him?  You?”

 

Garnel flushed and dropped his gaze to the floor.

 

Peeta turned away from the window.  “Can you prove Snow set the fire?”

 

Haymitch glared at him. “Prove it to whom?  He owns Cray and Thread and every other damn cop around here for miles.”

 

Katniss followed him from the room as he stalked into the kitchen after she sent an apologetic glance towards Peeta.

 

“He was afraid, last night,” Chaff said, standing up and pointing at Peeta.  “You scared him.”

 

Peeta shook his head.  “No he wasn’t.  Men like Snow don’t get scared.”

 

An explosion sent them all diving to the floor.  Peeta leapt up immediately, going to the kitchen to check on Katniss and Haymitch.  What he saw out of the kitchen window made his stomach turn.  Garnel’s grocery was on fire, the building a complete ruin already.  Snow was standing out front, his gaze locked on Haymitch’s house.  Peeta ran out the back door, stopping at the edge of the property, his body vibrating with rage.

 

Snow met his gaze coolly.  “This is my town,” he called loudly.  “Don’t you forget it.”


	8. Chapter 8

Peeta stood in the barn, slick with sweat, punching the heavy bag he’d hung last week.  Images of the fires and Snow’s face played in his head like a movie he couldn’t turn off.  No matter how many times he hit the fucking bag, they just kept coming.  He hit harder, knuckles cracking beneath the tape.  Dancing around the bag, he kept pummeling it harder, faster, anything to make the refrain in his head shut up.

 

“Well meeho, you’re all kinds of fucked up, aren’t you?”  Peeta stopped hitting the bag, his chest heaving as he greedily sucked in air.  He shook his hands and began punching again.  Finnick sighed.  “Let’s crank that thing up and head down the road, we can be gone by dawn, never see this place again.”

 

Peeta froze and turned to face his friend, a stony expression on his face.  “You can leave anytime you want to,” he spat, taking another swipe at the bag.

 

“Aww, shit kid.”

 

Peeta moved to the rope hanging down from the loft and began to scale it, up and down, muscles straining.

 

“You don’t need this.”

 

Peeta jumped off the rope and went back to the bag, nailing it with a vicious kick.  “Don’t tell me what I need.  If you want to go…go.”  His words were interspersed with punches and jabs at the bag.  “Just go and get the fuck out of here and leave me alone!”

 

Finnick grabbed his shoulder and Peeta spun, his fist already moving.  Finnick’s hand closed over it, stopping it cold. “Nah, we don’t want to do this.”  Green eyes met blue and Peeta was the first to look away, shamed that he’d actually thrown a punch at his oldest friend.  “Lemme tell you something ace,” Finnick continued, his voice low and soft.  “You taught me as much as I ever taught you.”  Peeta’s gaze lifted again, locking with Finnick’s.  “I love you, meeho,” he said with a smile.  “I’ll see you.”  Finnick dropped his hand and strolled out of the barn, leaving Peeta standing there alone once more.

 

~*~

 

Peeta stood at the window, looking out at Snow’s mansion.  Every light was blazing, lighting up the night sky like a small city.  The horses neighed softly as the lights of a car pulled up his drive.  He watched, stoic as Katniss exited her Jeep and walked into the barn, her footsteps soft and slow on the stairs as she climbed to the loft.

 

He didn’t move as she walked up the last step.  “Peeta.”

 

“Little late for a house call, don’t you think?”

 

She inhaled sharply.  “I came to talk to you.”

 

Peeta spun around, pain written on every line of his face.  “No, you came to tell me to leave.”

 

Tears filled her eyes.  “I care about you Peeta!  You don’t know him.”

 

“Bullshit,” Peeta snarled, walking to the small kitchen and grabbing a water from the fridge, twisting the cap off and taking a savage drink.  “I know exactly who Snow is, I’ve seen his kind many times.”  He stalked back to the window.  “He keeps taking and taking until there’s nothing left.  It’s obvious no one in this town can stand up to him.”

 

“But you can stop him?” Katniss cried, taking a few steps closer to him. 

 

Peeta turned to glare at her.  “Snow picked ME!  And when he did, he fucked up!  I’m only good at one thing doc, I never lose-”

 

“But what are you gonna win?” She cried, interrupting him, the tears finally spilling down her cheeks.  “Who’s this for anyway?  You doing it for them?” Peeta’s eyes were wide as he stared at her and she continued.  “Yeah, I didn’t think so.  You think you’re going to save these people from Snow?”  Her voice rose into a shrill shriek.  “Well who’s gonna save them from you?”

 

Sae’s house exploded, and Katniss jumped nearly a foot in the air.  Peeta was on the roof, jumping off it and racing towards the house before she even caught her breath.  He kicked open the front door and ran into the house, screaming Sae’s name.  The horses were shrieking in terror, milling about the barn and paddock as he carried her limp body out the front door, laying it in the grass.

 

“Sae!  Dammit, wake up!”

 

Katniss fell to her knees beside him, reaching for the older woman’s hand, taking her pulse.

 

“Sae!” Peeta said urgently, gently patting her cheeks. “Are you okay?”

 

The old woman’s eyes slid open and she groaned.  “I will be if you’d get off me,” she said pithily, slapping Katniss’ hands away.

 

The roar of a motorcycle echoed and Peeta’s head jerked up.  Jumping to his feet, he took off running, cutting through the trees and pulling Brutus from the bike, both of them tumbling into the forest.  Peeta gained his feet first, grabbing the taller man and hitting him with a hard uppercut to the chin.  Time slowed down as they traded fists and kicks, brutally battling each other.  Back and forth, they wove in a deadly dance, each punch hitting harder than the last until they were both bloody and bruised, standing on the shore of the river.

 

“Damn boy, I thought you were good,” Brutus taunted through swollen lips.

 

The calm rationality that he’d been struggling to maintain since setting foot in Panem dissolved in a sticky knot that left him feeling more energized than ever.  He knew, deep in his soul, that as long as the man before him lived, he would make Peeta’s life and everyone around him a living hell.  The rest of the world fell away and he knew what he needed to do.  Taking a deep breath, he zeroed in on Brutus and took a step forward, fist outstretched. “Go fuck yourself.”

 

His hands were a blur, striking and punching, each hit building towards the inevitable end.

 

Brutus stumbled back and pulled a gun from his ankle holster.  Peeta’s vision went red.  It was Memphis all over again.  He slapped the gun out of Brutus’ hand, moving closer with each hit.  Peeta’s hand found Brutus’ throat and he curled his fingers inward, exhaling forcefully as he tore open a hole in his jugular.  Brutus gurgled once and then slumped in Peeta’s grasp.  The mental bubble he was in burst with a mind jolting pop and he staggered backwards, Brutus’ body falling in a heap at his feet.

 

He heard Katniss’ feet as she raced towards him, her boots slapping the forest floor.  Her voice was an anguished wail as she turned the body over.  Peeta walked by her, reaching down to grab a fistful of Brutus’ shirt, dragging the body into the river.  “Snow!”  Further out he waded, the body floating next to him.  “Snow!  Fuck you!”  With a snarl, he pushed the body towards the other bank and stumbled back to the shore, sinking down on the sandy ground, Katniss sobbing softly next to him.


	9. Chapter 9

Peeta pulled up outside the Double Deuce the next morning in his Mercedes, everything he owned in the trunk.  Snow could have this fucking shithole, he was done.  In one night, everything he’d been working towards for the past ten years had gone down the shitter.  Finn was right, he didn’t need this shit.

 

The phone was ringing when he walked in the door and he ran over to the bar to answer it. He’d left Finn a message to meet him here, so maybe he’d been delayed.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Top of the morning to you.”  Snow, calling him?  This fucker was even more whacked than he thought.  “Well, here’s what’s on for today.  Odair or Katniss.”

 

Peeta nearly swallowed his tongue.  “What?” he asked, dumbfounded.

 

Snow’s voice was soft and laced with vitriol.  “One of them dies.”  He chuckled lightly. “Now, which one will it be?”

 

Peeta closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  “You are a sick man.”

 

“I just have to flip a coin, hold on.”  Snow put the phone down.

 

“Snow!”  Peeta shouted into the phone.  “Snow, damn you!”

 

Snow came back on the line.  “Peeta, I’d sure like to tell you how it came out.” 

 

“Snow!” The dial tone buzzed in Peeta’s ear and he slammed the receiver down, cursing under his breath. 

 

The door behind Peeta opened and he spun as Finnick stumbled through it, bloody and beaten.  Peeta raced over to where he stood, sliding his arm around the older man’s waist, helping him down the stairs and over to a stool at the bar.  Finnick’s hand shook as he pointed to the beer.  Peeta leaned over the bar and poured one, handing it to his friend before slumping down on the stool next to him.  Finnick drank the beer in two long swallows, slapping the glass down on the bar.

 

“Are you all right?” Peeta asked anxiously.

 

Finnick laughed, wincing.  “There was only three of them.”  He leaned over and poured another beer, drinking half of it before he continued.  “Said I was lucky.”

 

“I gotta find Katniss,” Peeta said, standing up.

 

“Go,” Finnick replied, finishing off the second beer and standing up.

 

Peeta put his hand on Finnick’s shoulder, pushing him back down into the chair.  “Sit the fuck down and have another beer.”

 

Finnick slumped onto the chair.  “Hey!”

 

Peeta held his shoulders lightly.  “Snow wins, man.  We’re getting the fuck outta here.”

 

Finnick smiled, sagging back down onto the seat.  “Atta boy, meeho.”

 

~*~

 

Peeta ran into the hospital, taking the stairs to the second floor.  He approached the nurse’s station.  “Where’s Dr. Everdeen?” he asked the first nurse he came across.

 

“She’s in X-Ray.  Who’re you?”

 

“Nevermind,” Peeta said, racing off down the hallway, following the signs to X-Ray.

 

Katniss was scrolling through a series of x-rays when he burst into the room.  She spun around in her chair, her eyes wide.  “Peeta! What are you doing here?”

 

“Get your things, we’re outta here,” he said shortly, crossing the space towards her.

 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said, spinning back around.

 

“The hell you’re not,” Peeta ground out, curling his fingers around her arm and lifting her out of the chair.

 

She pulled her arm from his grip.  “Forget it.”

 

Peeta’s expression softened.  “Doc, the man’s crazy.”

 

Katniss sighed. “You think I don’t know that?”

 

“At least go to Haymitch’s.”  His hands slid up her arms.  “Katniss, he threatened to kill you.  Told me I had to choose between you and Finnick.”

 

“What?”

 

“Please, I don’t want to lose you, doc.”

 

~*~

 

Peeta pulled into the parking lot of the Deuce, ready to collect Finnick and get the fuck out of Panem.  He’d had enough bullshit to last a lifetime.  Snow could have this fucking town.  As long as he got Katniss, Haymitch and Finn out of here, the rest could rot.

 

He locked the door as he strode up the stairs, tucking the fob back into his pocket before pushing open the doors of the Deuce.  Finnick was up on the bar, lying there with his back to the rest of the bar.  Peeta laughed.  He was probably three sheets to the wind.  “Yo, wake the fuck up, we’re outta here.”  Peeta reached for his shoulder.  “I said one beer, senor.”  Finnick’s body rolled onto the bar, a knife sticking up out of his heart.

 

Peeta collapsed atop the body, fighting back tears.  Animalistic noises came from his throat and he clenched and unclenched his hands furiously.  Pulling the knife from his friends body, he left the bar.  Stomping out to the car, he unlocked it and slid behind the wheel, rage nearly blinding him as he floored the gas pedal, the car fishtailing as he sped out of the parking lot.

 

Peeta drove like the hounds of hell were on his ass, pedal mashed to the floor as he sped down the highway towards Snow’s mansion.

 

~*~

 

Peeta bent down, jamming the knife into the gas pedal.  The car roared and he stepped back, letting the car go.  It jumped forward, speeding towards the house.  Snow’s henchmen were spread out in front of the house and Peeta watched as the car jumped up over a berm and sped towards the group.  They scattered quickly, but not before peppering the car with so many bullets it was a wonder it didn’t explode.  While their attention was focused on the Mercedes, he snuck around the back, twisting the neck of the first guard he came to, dropping him silently to the ground.

 

He entered the house, hugging the wall.  He could hear someone moving and stood still waiting for them to turn the corner.  The second the man came into view, Peeta’s hand was around his throat, the knife buried deep in the guy’s gut.  “Knifed again,” Peeta snarled as the guy died.

 

Looking up, he saw the shadow of a man moving on the banister.  Holding up the first guy’s body as a shield, he pulled the knife free and once the bullet entered the guy’s back, he dropped him and hurled the knife, hitting the guy on the banister right between the eyes.  The gun he was holding went off as he tumbled off the banister, dropping on the tile with a wet thud.

 

Peeta moved silently further into the house, ducking into the trophy room.  Various animal heads and stuffed life sized trophies filled the large room.  He ducked behind a seven foot tall polar bear as another of Snow’s henchmen entered the room.  Pushing the bear, he hid a laugh as the monstrous thing toppled over onto the short, fat man, pinning him to the ground.  “You’re made for each other,” Peeta said as he stepped over the passed out cold man. Who knew how many other men were in the house?

 

Snow walked into the trophy room, a pistol held tightly in his hand.  “I see you found my trophy room, Peeta,” he said as he moved among the trophies.  “The only thing missing is your ass!”

 

Snow moved further into the room.  “C’mon out, Peeta.   This town is big enough for the both of us.  Let’s talk about this!”

 

Peeta bumped into a trophy and Snow took a shot, nailing him in the shoulder.  The bullet stung as it blew past, marking a trail along the skin of his bicep.  He ducked as a spear flew his way, embedding into the wall where his head was seconds before.  Peeta leapt out into the center of the room, fist cocked and ready, dropping a deep uppercut onto Snow’s chin.  The older man stumbled back, arms windmilling.  Peeta was on him in seconds, hands moving in a blur as he threw a left and then a right, following it up with a roundhouse kick.  Snow countered with a punch to the wound on his shoulder that dropped him to his knees.

 

Snow wiped the blood from his lip.  “I thought it’d be fun to fight you, Peeta.”  He pushed up off the floor, using the couch as a crutch.  “I really did, but now I just don’t have the time.”  He leveled the gun at Peeta’s head, cocking it.  Peeta kicked it out of his hand, the gun discharging harmlessly in the air.

Standing above Snow, he pulled his hand back for a killing punch, staring into the cold blue eyes of the man that had destroyed most of the town.  Katniss’ face flashed in front of his eyes and he realized that if he did this, he couldn’t live with himself.  Letting go of Snow’s shirt, he turned to walk away. 

 

Katniss stood on the stairs, watching him. “No!” She cried out and Peeta spun around to see Snow holding the pistol once more. 

 

“It’s over,” Snow grated out.

 

A shotgun blast rang out, a patch of red blooming on Snow’s chest.  Another shot and another spreading patch of red.  One more shot and Snow fell backward onto the glass coffee table, dead.

 

Katniss ran down the stairs, wrapping her arms around Peeta as Haymitch, Chaff, and Garnel moved closer, each of them holding a rifle. “This is our town, and don’t you forget it,” Chaff said, staring down at Snow’s body. Haymitch motioned towards the others, gathering the rifles from their arms and going out of the room.  Peeta held Katniss tightly as siren’s sounded in the distance.

 

Haymitch returned just as Sheriff Cray and Deputy Thread ran into the room.  “Coriolanus, where are you?”  Cray skidded to a stop as he saw Snow’s body, his expression sober.  “All right, who’s gonna tell me what happened here?”

 

“I didn’t see anything,” Haymitch said.  “Chaff, you see anything?”

 

“I didn’t see anything, Garnel?”

 

“Not me, I didn’t see a thing.”

 

Sheriff Cray stared hard at all of them before shaking his head, pulling out his radio.  “I need a bus out at Snow’s place.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

One month later...

It was a perfect summer afternoon, not too sticky. The water was cool and refreshing after their picnic. Haymitch was passed out in the hammock, a bottle cradled in his arms.

Peeta dove into the river, swimming out to where Katniss floated on her back. He came up beneath her, wrapping her in his arms as he surfaced, pressing a kiss to her lips. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist as he maneuvered them into the deeper water.

“I love you,” Peeta said as her legs wound around his waist. He could feel the heat of her beneath her bikini bottoms. He wanted to bury himself in her wet heat, feel her pulsing around him, the cool water lapping at their overheated skin.

“I love you too,” she said, running her fingers through his wet curls. “And we can come swimming later, after he goes home.”

He grinned wickedly. “Reading my mind?”

Katniss rubbed sinuously against him, her core pressed against his cock. “Yep, this one.”

His bark of laughter reverberated over the peaceful water.


End file.
